The Circle of Life……

I’ve had a revelation dear reader, and being the giver that I am, I’ve decided to share it with you.

{Truth be told, this philosophical divulgence occurred some time ago, but it has taken 6 weeks to get a picture of that damned frog!}

So here we are.  Is your mind clear?  Are you sitting with an open heart and incense burning {preferably on an organic, free trade hemp mat, but beggars can’t be choosers so read on}, ready to receive the blessing of todays spiritual enlightenment?

The circle of life has nothing to do with Elton John.  Or Simba.  Let’s let that sink in shall we?  No!  You’re good, ok.  Moving on; The circle of life also has nothing to do with birth, death, regeneration, planting your placenta under a tree or anything else completely normal like that.  Shit’s getting cray cray, stay with me reader.

During the last school holidays, Ethan headed north to spend a few golden days and nights with his Nana & Geoff in Waipu.  He loves it there, he can roam free with the big dogs, fish for eels and………catch frogs all day.  We are fully versed in the one-way relationship that comes from having pet frogs; you spend $140 on a terrarium to house your new friends, add to that a budget of $20 on flies once a week, put flies in tank, frog eats flies, frog poos in water, you clean the tank (because Steve Irwin Jr lost interest after day 9).  Needless to say after a couple of years of this we released our amphibious friends and sold our terrarium – because there was no way we were EVER having pet frogs again.  Mmm mmmm, no way. 

Can you see where this is going?  Can you?

Ethan returned from Waipu clutching a 20 litre paint bucket like it was the last bucket of Resene Quarter Tea left in existence.  Inside was the biggest freaking frog we had ever seen.  Despite a generous offer of a frog palace from friends, we were going to need a bigger tank.

So you see reader, the circle of life isn’t a matter worthy of deep, spiritual meditation.  The circle of life is complete when you are purchasing your SECOND $140 terrarium and naming the biggest, fly guzzling creature you have ever seen, Benji. 

The lesson here is simple, don’t sell your terrarium / fishtank / hamster house ever.  Hoard that shit in your garage until all kids are at least 21, then make them take it flatting.  The husband children will always find a way to smuggle more pets into your life, this is how we ended up with Dash, and goddamn it I can’t lose that dog for want of trying.

Namaste x